Lilith watched as the elven warriors gently coaxed the children from the carriage. Their small faces were streaked with tears, eyes wide with fear that slowly gave way to cautious relief as they realised they were being rescued. Some of the younger ones sobbed openly while the older children maintained a stoic silence that spoke of horrors they'd already witnessed.

  She dragged the unconscious slaver to the side of the road, positioning him against a tree trunk. His head lolled forward, a thin line of drool connecting his slack mouth to his stained tunic. The elves would likely want to question him later—find out where these children had been taken from, where they were being transported to, and who was behind the operation.

  With that task complete, Lilith turned back to survey the carnage she'd created. Five bodies lay scattered across the dirt road, their blood soaking into the earth. She studied them dispassionately, once again searching her emotions for even a flicker of remorse or regret.

  Nothing came.

  She waited, wondering if perhaps she just needed time for the adrenaline to leave her system. Maybe then the reality of what she'd done would hit her. But even as her heartbeat slowed and her breathing steadied, she felt no guilt, no horror at the lives she'd taken.

  Not even the disappointment she'd felt earlier resurfaced. Instead, a more practical thought emerged: they needed to clean up this mess. Leaving corpses on a public road would attract scavengers, both animal and human. It might also alert any associates of these slavers who might be following behind.

  The Sword of Gluttony could solve this problem easily. The demonic weapon would devour the bodies completely, leaving no trace behind. But Lilith hesitated at the thought of drawing it from her inventory. The blade's appearance—that disturbing fusion of metal and flesh, with its pulsing veins and occasional hungry growls—would immediately betray her demonic nature. Even under her human disguise, wielding such an obviously unholy weapon would raise questions she wasn't prepared to answer.

  Perhaps a spell would be more appropriate? Fire magic came to mind first—she could incinerate the bodies where they lay. But that would take time, and the smell of burning flesh would carry for miles. Not to mention the smoke would be visible from a great distance, potentially drawing unwanted attention.

  Lilith tapped her finger against her thigh, considering her options. Acid might work, but it would leave traces in the soil. Earth magic could bury them, but disturbed ground would be noticeable to trained eyes. Water magic might wash away the blood, but the bodies would remain.

  She needed something efficient, clean, and most importantly, something that wouldn't reveal her true nature to the elves who were already suspicious enough.

  Lilith turned her attention back to the bodies strewn across the road. The metallic scent of blood hung in the air, mingling with the earthy smell of the forest. She needed to deal with this mess quickly and discreetly.

  A thought occurred to her. In Infinity, she'd mastered multiple classes—Sorcerer as her main class, with Hellblade and Enchantress as subclasses. The game mechanics had only allowed one configuration to be active at any given time, either her main class at full power or a hybrid setup with one subclass.

  "I wonder..." she murmured, reaching mentally for her Sorcerer abilities.

  As a Sorcerer, she had access to a minor reanimation spell from the necromancy tree. It was considered one of the weaker options in the game—temporary and unstable—but its primary drawback now seemed like an advantage. When the spell ended, the reanimated corpses would crumble to dust.

  Lilith smiled faintly. If she cast the spell and immediately dismissed it, the bodies would disintegrate without ever reanimating. Clean, efficient, and far less suspicious than summoning a flesh-eating demonic sword.

  But could she even access her Sorcerer abilities without switching from her current configuration? In the game, she would have needed to meditate at a shrine or use a class-switching token.

  Lilith closed her eyes, focusing on the spell as she had with Haste earlier. To her surprise, the knowledge flowed into her consciousness effortlessly—even faster than before. It was as if it didn't even need a recall, just waiting for her attention.

  She extended her hand toward the nearest corpse, whispering the incantation under her breath. Arcane energy tingled through her fingertips, and she braced herself for the spell to fizzle out.

  Instead, a pale violet light enveloped the body. The corpse shuddered once, then with a flick of her wrist it began to disintegrate, flesh and bone crumbling into fine ash that scattered in the gentle breeze.

  Lilith blinked in surprise. "Well, that's convenient."

  She moved methodically from one body to the next, repeating the process until all five slavers had been reduced to nothing but dust mingling with the dirt of the road. Even the bloodstains were gone, absorbed into the ash and blown away.

  As she finished with the last body, a realisation struck her. She hadn't needed to switch her class focus at all. In this new reality, she wasn't bound by Infinity's game mechanics—those artificial constraints designed for balance no longer applied.

  She was simultaneously a Sorcerer, a Hellblade, and an Enchantress. All her abilities, from all three classes, were available to her at once.

  Lilith let out a soft laugh, equal parts amazement and concern. This meant she was significantly more powerful than she'd initially assumed. But it also meant...

  Her smile faded as another thought occurred to her. The Enchantress subclass came with passive abilities that had seemed appropriate for a succubus character in a game. Now, those same passives were part of her actual being.

  Passion Weaver, for instance—a passive ability that generated Inner Fire in targets affected by her magic. Each spell she cast would add to that building pressure of desire in anyone she targeted.

  "That's going to be... problematic," she muttered, glancing toward Thaelon.

  At least Succubus Charm wasn't exactly a spell—if it had been, Passion Weaver would have transformed it from a simple charm effect into something far more intense. The thought made her cringe.

  Lilith brushed the remaining dust from her hands and turned back toward the elven group. She'd have to be more careful about which abilities she used and around whom. The last thing she needed was to leave a trail of hopelessly infatuated individuals in her wake.

  * * *

  Lilith dusted off her hands, satisfied with her handiwork. The road now showed no evidence of the slaughter that had taken place minutes earlier. She glanced toward the elven group, where Thaelon was organising his rangers to tend to the rescued children. Several of the young ones were crying, clinging to their rescuers with trembling hands.

  "Not my problem," she muttered under her breath.

  While she'd felt compelled to help with the ambush, Lilith had no intention of getting further entangled in the elves' affairs. She still had Tomas to escort to Westbridge, and then her real mission could begin—finding what remained of her empire in the Wastelands and if possible finding her way back home.

  Thaelon broke away from his group and approached her, his eyes still glazed with the unmistakable sheen of her charm. The way he looked at her—like she was the centre of his universe—made her uncomfortable. It was one thing to manipulate NPCs in a game; it was quite another to see the effect on what appeared to be a real person.

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  "My lady," he said, bowing slightly, "your assistance was invaluable. I must insist you accompany us to our village. We would honour you with a feast worthy of your skill."

  Lilith shook her head. "I appreciate the offer, but I have responsibilities elsewhere. My companion and I must reach Westbridge by tomorrow."

  Thaelon's face fell, the disappointment almost comical in its intensity. "Surely you could delay for just one night? Our settlement is not far, and the forest can be dangerous after dark."

  "I can handle myself," Lilith replied dryly, gesturing to the now-empty road where five bodies had lain moments before.

  "At least grant me the honour of knowing your name," Thaelon persisted, stepping closer. "So that I might speak of you when I recount this day's victory."

  Lilith hesitated. Giving her real name seemed unwise—if there were legends about a Demon Queen Lilith in this world, it might raise unwanted questions. But creating a false identity felt unnecessarily complicated. She was unlikely to encounter these elves again once she reached the Wastelands.

  "Lilith," she finally said. "My name is Lilith."

  "Lilith," Thaelon repeated, as if savouring the syllables. "A beautiful name for a beautiful warrior."

  From the corner of her eye, Lilith noticed Sylrena watching their exchange, her posture rigid with suspicion. The female elf's hand rested on her dagger hilt, and her eyes narrowed when Lilith met her gaze.

  "I really must be going," Lilith said, taking a step back from Thaelon. "My companion will be waking soon, and we've lost enough time already."

  Thaelon nodded reluctantly. "I understand your commitment to duty. It is... admirable." He reached into a pouch at his belt and withdrew a small wooden token carved with intricate elvish symbols. "Please, take this token of friendship. Should you ever find yourself near our settlement of Silverleaf, present this to any of our scouts. You will be welcomed as an honoured guest."

  Lilith almost refused, but the earnestness in his expression—artificial though it might be—made her reconsider. Having such token might prove useful, especially if she needed to travel through elven territories later.

  "Thank you," she said, accepting the token and slipping it into her own pouch. "I'll remember your offer."

  As she turned to walk back toward where Tomas lay, she felt Sylrena's eyes boring into her back. The female elf had moved closer, ostensibly to report to Thaelon, but her attention remained fixed on Lilith.

  The suspicion in that gaze had only intensified after Lilith had given her name. Perhaps "Lilith" carried connotations in this world that she wasn't aware of, or maybe Sylrena simply resented Thaelon's obvious infatuation.

  Either way, Lilith decided it wasn't worth worrying about. In a few hours, she'd be on her way to Westbridge, and these elves would be nothing but a memory—an interesting footnote in her journey to reclaim her empire.

  * * *

  Lilith watched as the elves departed, Sylrena practically dragging Thaelon away. The female elf cast one final suspicious glance over her shoulder, her amber eyes narrowed to slits. Thaelon moved with the reluctance of a child being pulled from a sweet shop, his gaze lingering on Lilith until the forest swallowed them.

  "Good riddance," Lilith muttered, returning to where Tomas lay unconscious on the ground beside their wagon.

  The young man's chest rose and fell steadily, his face peaceful despite the dart's potent sedative. Lilith settled on a nearby rock, realising she might be waiting a while. She glanced at the sky—still plenty of daylight left, but they'd lost valuable travel time.

  With nothing better to do, Lilith decided to explore her new body's capabilities more thoroughly. The spells she'd cast had come naturally, almost instinctively, but she'd felt something being depleted each time—her mana, presumably. In the game, mana had been just another stat bar, a blue number that went down when she cast spells. But here, in this physical form, what exactly was it?

  Lilith closed her eyes and focused inward, trying to sense what she'd felt during spellcasting. At first, there was nothing but the steady rhythm of her heartbeat and the gentle rise and fall of her breath. Then, as she concentrated harder, she became aware of something else—a strange sensation on the opposite side of her chest from her heart.

  It pulsed in counterpoint to her heartbeat, a cool, liquid presence that seemed both part of her and separate. Where her heart pumped warm blood, this other organ—her mana heart, she decided to call it—circulated something colder, more ethereal.

  "Fascinating," she whispered, placing a hand over the spot.

  As she focused on the sensation, Lilith became aware of tiny, vein-like structures branching out from this mana heart. Unlike blood vessels, these mana veins spread through her body in perfectly symmetrical patterns, creating an intricate network that reached every part of her. The veins glowed faintly blue in her mind's eye, pulsing with power.

  She noticed how the Human Visage spell drew a steady trickle from this reservoir, the mana flowing outward through the veins to maintain her disguise. Despite this constant drain, the mana heart remained well-filled—at least three-quarters full, she estimated.

  Curious, Lilith explored further, tracing the mana veins' paths through her body. They spread evenly throughout most of her form, but she noticed peculiar concentrations in specific areas. Her wings, though currently hidden by the Human Visage spell, contained dense clusters of mana veins. Her horns, too, seemed to be focal points for magical energy.

  Most interesting, however, were the concentrations in her more intimate areas. The mana veins formed intricate webs around her breasts, lips, and between her legs—places where her body could make contact with others. The pattern reminded her of something, though she couldn't quite place it.

  "Like a feeding system," she murmured, the realisation dawning slowly.

  The distribution made perfect sense for a succubus. These weren't just channels for casting spells—they were designed to absorb energy from others. The way the veins concentrated around her erogenous zones suggested they served as collection points, gathering energy that would then flow back to her mana heart.

  Lilith felt a chill run down her spine. Her body wasn't just capable of pleasure—it was engineered for it, designed to transform intimate contact into magical power. The implications were both fascinating and unsettling.

  A groan from Tomas interrupted her meditation. The young man stirred, one hand reaching up to rub his forehead as his eyes fluttered open.

  "What... what happened?" he mumbled, struggling to sit up.

  Lilith quickly moved to his side, helping him into a sitting position. "You fell asleep at the reins," she lied smoothly. "I managed to stop the horse before we went off the road."

  Tomas blinked in confusion, his brow furrowing. "I don't remember feeling tired. And weren't there... elves?"

  "Elves?" Lilith laughed lightly. "I think you were dreaming. We haven't seen anyone since we left the village."

  "But I could have sworn..." Tomas looked around, finding no evidence of the elven rangers or the slavers they'd ambushed. Lilith had made sure of that, disposing of all traces before he awoke.

  "You must have dozed off while driving," she insisted. "It happens, especially on quiet stretches of road."

  Tomas rubbed the back of his neck where the dart had struck him, wincing slightly. "My neck hurts."

  "You probably slept on it wrong when you fell over," Lilith suggested. "Can you stand? We should get moving if we want to reach Westbridge before dark."

  Still looking confused, Tomas allowed Lilith to help him to his feet. He swayed slightly but quickly regained his balance.

  "That's strange," he said, glancing around once more. "The dream felt so real."

  "Dreams often do," Lilith replied, guiding him back to the wagon. "I once dreamed I could fly, and I was convinced it was real for days afterward."

  Tomas chuckled awkwardly, clearly embarrassed. "Well, thank you for taking control of the wagon. Uncle Miroslav would have my hide if anything happened to his delivery."

  "Don't mention it," Lilith said, climbing onto the driver's bench beside him. "Though perhaps I should take the reins for a while, just to be safe?"

  "No, no," Tomas insisted, his pride apparently wounded. "I'm fine now. Must have been the early start catching up with me."

  As Tomas took up the reins and urged the horse forward, Lilith leaned back slightly, returning her attention inward. The mana heart continued its steady pulse, the veins carrying its power throughout her body. Now that she was aware of it, she could feel the constant, subtle drain of the Human Visage spell, like water slowly seeping through a cloth.

  She wondered how quickly her mana would regenerate if she were aroused. In the game, increased arousal had meant faster mana regeneration for her succubus character. Now, she suspected the relationship was even more direct—her body literally converted sexual energy into magical power.

  The memory of her experience in the bath that morning came flooding back. She'd felt so energised afterward, so vibrant. Had that been her mana replenishing itself? And if simple self-pleasure could restore her power, what might happen with a partner?

  Lilith glanced at Tomas, who was focused on the road ahead, and quickly dismissed the thought. Despite inhabiting a succubus's body, she was still Jacob inside—a straight man with no interest in other men. The farmhand's rugged features and masculine frame held zero appeal. Her body might crave the energy, but her mind recoiled at the idea.

  The wagon rumbled along the road, each jolt sending a ripple through her mana network that Lilith could now perceive. She found herself fascinated by this new awareness, this tangible connection to magic that had been merely abstract in the game.

  "Should be there by sunset," Tomas said, breaking into her thoughts. "Assuming we don't run into any more delays."

  "Good," Lilith replied, her mind already racing ahead to what she might learn in Westbridge. "I'm looking forward to seeing a proper town."

  As the wagon continued its journey, Lilith remained acutely aware of the mana flowing through her veins and the cool pulse of her mana heart. Mana wasn't just a game mechanic anymore—it was a fundamental part of her biology, interwoven with her very nature as a succubus.